by Carla Caruso
When he pulled up at her townhouse, he glanced at her, his face half in shadow. ‘Sorry if I overdid it before, with the dancing. Think I got carried away by the nice night …’
Guilt tugged at her heart. It was her fault that things had ended so weirdly, and she could have laughed off his dancing suggestion earlier. ‘No, it was fine. I enjoyed myself. In fact, as a thank you for the lovely evening, I want to give you a gift. Don’t move a muscle.’
She felt like she had to do something to make up for the awkwardness.
‘Um, you really don’t have to,’ Jadon began, ‘but … okay.’
She jumped out of the Merc and raced up the steps, fumbling with her keys in the lock. After she’d grabbed her gift idea from indoors—a tubular-leaved bromeliad—she hurried back out. Opening the passenger door, she handed him the greenery.
‘It’s an air plant,’ she explained. ‘You might have seen them at the botanical studio launch. Thanks to its special leaves, it doesn’t require any soil. You just have to mist it with water regularly. Even you couldn’t kill it.’
Jadon looked down at the spiky plant with a half-smile. ‘Only you. Thanks.’
Only her indeed.
After he’d jokily seat-belted the plant in beside him, she watched him pull out into the street and drive away. Dean Martin’s Buona Sera this time played mournfully in her head. Goodnight.
Not for the first time she wished she was an ordinary girl leading an ordinary life, one which could be shared with an extraordinary guy. Unfortunately, her future had already been written.
Chapter 14
Mina stood back with a happy smile. The set-up for Lotta’s bridal shower couldn’t have looked more perfect that Saturday afternoon.
With the help of one of the shop’s usual moving men, she’d had a long, low wooden table positioned under trees at the botanic garden, with a Persian rug underneath. Fringed cushions were dotted around for seating, old candle chandeliers hung from branches, and Eros Ramazzotti played on the stereo at her sister’s request.
Mina couldn’t wait for Jadon to see it. Plus, of course, the bride-to-be and her guests, who were all still to arrive.
As if on cue, Lotta sashayed across the grass in a cream lace mini dress, leaves falling around her like confetti. Mina’s happiness for Lotta squashed her envy at her fairy-tale romance, before she noticed her sister scowling.
‘Happy bridal shower,’ Mina called out hesitantly. Could Lotta hate the party theming? Was it all too … bohemian?
Her sister stopped before her, barely casting an eye over the décor, her face frantic. ‘Mina, I can’t believe it!’ she wailed. ‘I found a grey hair—my first one—this morning. The day of my bridal shower. I tried to cover it up with mascara, but I don’t know, I look like a total witch, I reckon!’
Mina flinched at her word choice.
Realising her error, Lotta jabbered on. ‘Sorry, an old hag … oh, you know what I mean! Seriously, it’s all downhill from here. Good thing Dino’s marrying me in a few weeks before I really fall apart.’
Mina placed calming hands on Lotta’s shoulders. ‘You look beautiful. I can’t see a skerrick of grey. Dino’s so lucky to have you as his bride.’
Pre-wedding jitters, it seemed, really were a thing.
Lotta hung her head. ‘Sorry, I might be a little wound up. Unfortunately, not all of us can click our fingers and change what we see in the mirror, though.’ She gave Mina’s nose a pointed look.
Mina wished altering her appearance was that easy. She fiddled with her geometric-print hair scarf. ‘There has to be some perks to my lifestyle,’ she muttered. ‘Anyway, you haven’t said anything about the look of the party. Is it okay?’
Lotta glanced at the set-up and nodded with enthusiasm. ‘I love it. It’s magical; exactly how I imagined it. But then, I never doubted you for a second.’
Mina’s shoulders slumped with relief. Moments later, Lotta’s fashion-savvy Italian pals surged in, taking over the place like mint in a herb garden. They got busy, throwing around false compliments and making dietary demands of the catering staff delivering the tapas fare.
Mina longed for the company of her mum and nonna; her efforts seemed wasted on this lot. Unfortunately, Lotta had vetoed them attending, not wanting anything to go awry on her special afternoon.
In between scoffing a white anchovy, Mina noticed a lull in the competitive conversations swirling around her. She had an inkling what the cause was even before she saw Jadon standing tall amid the gardens. Her heart stuttered along with the battery-operated tealights decorating the table. She’d almost given up on him turning up, thinking that maybe it’d got too busy at the shop without her.
Yelping a hi, she scrambled to her feet as Lotta’s friends, single or otherwise, shot longing looks in his direction. Thankfully, they descended back into their usual gossipy tones as she made her way over to him. Maybe they’d even written him off as her boyfriend!
He remained rooted to the spot, his expression indecipherable. The guy was as bad as her sister, seriously.
‘You made it!’ she stated the obvious, nervously tugging at the side of her rust-orange playsuit. ‘So, yeah, the bridal shower’s in full swing. And it’s all kind of worked out how I was hoping.’
‘It’s definitely an … interesting look,’ he replied at last. As he glanced down at her, his gaze was entirely different from when he’d tipped her backwards by that fountain. ‘After crunching the numbers, though, I don’t think event hire will work out at the store. There’s too much to consider—the risk of furniture damage, the logistics, insurance, etcetera. Still, I hope your sister has a wonderful afternoon.’
He’d come all this way to tell her that? It was dumbfounding. Since the art gallery party, he hadn’t acted any differently at the shop. Well, he had been kind of busy and in boss mode as usual. Even so, was it possible he thought she’d got the wrong impression about things the other night and felt the need to draw a line in the sand … at the expense of her idea?
Or maybe he just hated her attempt at styling and didn’t know how to tell her.
‘Um, fair enough, okay,’ she mumbled, embarrassment itching on her skin.
‘I’d better get back to the store,’ Jadon carried on. ‘But it was great to at least see the idea through and give it a try. Make sure to take some time-in-lieu for your efforts today.’
‘Sure,’ she whispered as he thrust his hands in his trouser pockets and turned, loping away.
She stared after him. In her mind’s eye, though, she was seeing herself standing before the bohemian spread, in her headscarf, looking like an absolute witch—or his hippie mother.
He’d definitely hated it.
‘Scared him off already?’
Mina glanced back at Lotta’s friend, Annetta, who had a nonna-like face despite her layers of foundation. Talk about a (non-magical) witch. Annetta primped her pageboy do. ‘Don’t worry. You’d need to be a supermodel to pin down a guy as hot as that.’
Ouch. Mina barked out a nervous laugh, feeling the tickle of an ant crawling over her big toe. Before she could think better of it, she found herself fervently wishing Annetta had hungry ants swarming her knickers, like in that old ‘sic’ em, Rex’ underwear ad. That might take the smile off her smug dial. Mina could visualise it happening.
But she was forgetting herself; it was her sister’s day of days. And it wasn’t Annetta’s fault she’d hit a sore spot. Mina slunk back to her seat. As she got into a cross-legged position beside Lotta, she noticed Annetta, opposite, shifting about on her cushion and flaring her nostrils.
Sugar. She hadn’t wished that hard for Annetta to become ‘antsy’ … had she?
Annetta suddenly leapt to her feet, flinging up her safflower-hued sundress to claw at her pins. Unfortunately, she wasn’t wearing any knickers, and from the flashes Mina saw, she was surprisingly less manicured downstairs. The other guests looked on aghast.
‘Bloody ants crawled up my frock,’ Annetta wai
led, still dancing about on the lawn.
Mina didn’t dare look in Lotta’s direction. Soon enough, she’d smell a rat and would be wishing she’d also cut Mina from the guest list.
Annetta’s offsider unleashed a throaty laugh. ‘Well, who goes freaking commando at a garden party?’
As the others erupted into giggles, Mina felt a hand warming her arm. Bracing for it, she turned towards her sister. Lotta’s eyebrow was knowingly raised.
‘Silly cow deserved that,’ her sister murmured. Relief swept through Mina like a cool breeze. Lotta eyed Mina’s empty cup amid the commotion. ‘Can I mix you a drink? Like the sort we used to concoct at weddings when we were kids.’
Mina grinned at the childhood memory. When the adults weren’t watching, they’d amuse themselves by blending soft drinks with salt, pepper, antipasto, and whatever else they could get their hands on, then would dare each other to take a sip … all before Mina knew she’d one day become a potion-blending witch.
‘You can make me something,’ Mina joked. ‘But I can’t promise to drink it.’
Lotta was already reaching for a bottle of creaming soda. ‘We’ll see.’
Mina couldn’t have been more grateful for her sister’s cheeriness in the face of yet another magical calamity.
Mina traced a finger over the graffiti on an old wooden school desk at the shop. Sutton and Jadon were elsewhere in the store that Monday. The juvenile scribbles on the desk ranged from ‘I failed Geography, 1988’ to ‘A2 premiers, 1966—who cares?’. A puddle of black also stained the wood around the inkwell hole, like a dark cloud wafting about the moon.
She was glad the original owner had sanded and stained the piece but hadn’t removed the doodles, had kept its history.
Maybe she felt some sort of kinship with the former angsty teens. She was back to feeling ‘meh’ at the shop since the event-styling fail … not that it had been a flop with the guests. They’d soaked it all up, even Annetta once she’d slapped away the colony of ants. Everyone had even kicked on at a rooftop bar afterwards.
But then there was Jadon, who was back to being curt and aloof in her presence. She should have been used to his Jekyll and Hyde act by now. Unless, of course, he was reacting to her giving off some weird vibe, out of self-preservation—
‘Lumina?’
See, she was losing it. She’d just imagined hearing Arlo’s deep voice behind her, disrupting her moment of solitude. Which was all kinds of crazy.
‘Lumina … it’s Arlo.’
Her stomach dropped fifteen storeys. Oh, gawd, she wasn’t just imagining it. She’d dreamt about this moment happening for an eternity. Visualised acting it out. Only, in her fantasies, she didn’t have a pimple on her cheek, a thrown-together outfit, and dented confidence. But, short of turning herself into a statue, she had no other choice but to spin around. She did so.
Dang. He was just as striking as she remembered up-close, in the flesh. More so, probably. He ran a hand through his dark blond hair, and it flopped back perfectly into place, like he was starring in a TV ad. A grey grandpa top and faded jeans showed off his gym-honed body.
‘H-hi,’ she stuttered. ‘Quelle surprise.’
Apparently, she was also now French.
He dug his hands in his pockets, like he wasn’t sure if a hug or kiss would be appropriate. She didn’t know either. ‘Thought you might still work here,’ he said, nodding to himself. ‘I was just across the road … It’s good to see you.’
So, he’d come to visit Gardenia again, she surmised. Had nostalgia driven him to drop in to see her too?
‘How’s things, life?’ she exclaimed, wiping sweaty hands on her moss-green cords. She attempted a joke, gesturing behind her. ‘And are you in the market for an old desk perchance?’
He smiled uncertainly. ‘Uh, never know. But, yeah, everything’s good. I’m … well, I’m married. I convinced a city girl to move up to the hills somehow. We have a little boy, actually.’
Mina bit down on her bottom lip. If things had been different, it could have been her life. Arlo carried on. ‘I’m still working in waste management with Dad too.’
As unglamorous as it sounded, there really was money in other people’s trash. Just look around her.
‘What about you?’
Urgh. Now she had to come up with something interesting to say about herself.
‘Well, I’m still working here obviously. Oh, and, um, I’ve been busy helping my sister with her upcoming wedding. She’s found herself a good Italian boy.’
Spade … hole … dig it now!
Arlo politely nodded. ‘Tell Lotta congratulations from me.’
‘Anyway, what brings you to this part of town?’ Mina asked, as though she’d never spied on him through a window. Two windows.
For a sliver of a second, Arlo’s jaw sagged, but he quickly closed his mouth again. Maybe she’d even imagined it. ‘I had an appointment at Prado Real Estate,’ he said. ‘I think you know the owner, Gardenia?’
‘Yes, we’re acquainted,’ Mina said carefully. ‘Are you looking for a new place?’
‘Oh … yeah.’ Arlo scratched his elbow. ‘Well, we’re hoping to upgrade, but we’re just seeing what’s out there right now. What we can get for our money and all that. Things get a little more complicated with a family to think about.’
For the first time, she noticed a hint of dark smudges under his eyes. Maybe his life wasn’t like a Johnson and Johnson commercial all the time.
His brow furrowed. ‘What are your thoughts on Gardenia anyway, if you don’t mind me asking? You’ve always been a good judge of character.’
Except when it came to Mina’s latest spell-selling incident, it seemed.
‘Gardenia’s fine,’ she answered truthfully, ‘so long as you stay on her good side—’
‘Need any help over here?’
Jadon strode up alongside Arlo, Mina’s two worlds colliding. It was an overload of hotness for one cramped corner of the shop.
‘Just catching up with an … old friend actually,’ Mina managed, her voice coming out all high-pitched and sing-songy. ‘Jadon, meet Arlo Sabato.’
‘Jadon Eder.’ He thrust out a broad hand. Mina could almost hear his mind screaming, ‘Aha, the ex-boyfriend.’
Arlo accepted the handshake. ‘You work with Mina, I gather?’
What was it with men and sizing each other up like cavemen, no matter the situation?
Jadon let go of Arlo’s hand. ‘Yes. I’m managing the store while my father’s on leave.’
Arlo nodded. ‘Ah. Well, I should probably leave you guys to it, anyway.’ His gaze drifted back to Mina. ‘We should do a coffee next time. It’s been too long between catch-ups.’ Then he stepped forwards and planted a kiss on her cheek. Her body seized up at the memory of his lips on her skin, his citrusy cologne.
‘We should,’ she murmured as he pulled away again.
She watched him go, only aware of what she was doing when Jadon cleared his throat beside her. For a millisecond, she’d forgotten he was there. Arlo had that sort of hold over her.
‘The problem with people from your past is,’ Jadon began, ‘they’re like decades. You only remember the good bits. Not the happy pants or the non-smart TVs. Time softens the edges.’
Mina turned to give him a sheepish smile, but he was already walking away.
Chapter 15
‘Dino went to a strip club!’ Lotta’s voice shrilled down the line as Mina strode along the footpath Wednesday night, phone to her ear. ‘Some seedy joint called Open Legs.’
‘A strip club?’ Mina echoed, noticing moody clouds crowding above her. She was on her way to the dinner party in-store that Jadon had organised with contacts from interiors magazines and the like. Some were driving up from the city and others, apparently, he’d flown in from interstate. It was all very different from when Mr Eder had been at the helm. Mina had done what she could to help with the event set-up, in between the catering company fussing around, then she’d du
cked home to change.
‘So, it was just the once?’ she asked Lotta, slowing her pace as the shop loomed ahead. ‘He isn’t like a club member or anything?’
‘Just once!’ Lotta practically screamed. ‘That I know of. It was for his buck’s party. He lied to me and said he’d just gone for a few drinks with his mates that night. But then I saw these revolting pictures from a group text message on his phone.’ With a huff, Lotta carried on. ‘So, while I had a civilised garden party, he was watching random women gyrating on poles and showing the world what they had for breakfast. It’s revolting! I just blew up at him then left his place. I mean, what kind of man am I marrying?’
Mina massaged her temple with her free hand. ‘I think on a buck’s night, a guy can probably get a free pass. I’m sure he wouldn’t have gone, like, as far as getting a lap dance. His friends would have organised the whole shebang and just dragged him along.’
Her words weren’t enough to appease Lotta, though. ‘Well, what kind of strength of character does he have if he can’t even stand up to his own mates? How’s he going to fight for me and our future children? Then there’s the fact that he lied to me.’
‘I don’t think he’s a regular Pinocchio,’ Mina said, though it only reminded her of her own (minimised) schnoz. ‘He probably just didn’t want to upset you and knew how you’d react. It’s a good sign that he can read you so well. Besides, a strip club as a last hurrah is better than, you know, a brothel.’
Or a so-called massage parlour.
Lotta snorted down the line. ‘Next, he’ll want me to watch porn with him and will be encouraging me to get fake boobs!’
‘Lotta, you need to calm down,’ Mina reasoned. ‘All the wedding planning is messing with your head. Yes, Dino went to a strip club; one with an unfortunate name. But he’s not the first guy to have done so and he won’t be the last.’
Probably, he’d been to such a club more than once in his lifetime, in truth, with his mates, but it didn’t seem the time to mention it. No-one could live up to Lotta’s princess-y standards.